


i hurt myself today (to see if i still feel)

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Harry Potter Dies, Lily Evans Potter Lives, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 21:23:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10999272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: I hurt myself todayTo see if I still feelI focus on the painThe only thing that's realPetunia Dursley was angry; angry at the world for making her inferior to her sister in every way that seemed to matter. But she forgot all her anger, the day Lily lost everything.





	i hurt myself today (to see if i still feel)

Petunia Dursley had never liked her little sister very much. At least, not since Lily had been sent a letter at eleven years old, telling her she was special, she was magic. And Petunia was not. She'd written letters to the headmaster, she'd begged - can't Petunia Dursley be magic too? Can't she be enchanting and brilliant and special too? _No,_ the reply came, kind but firm. _Never._

To Petunia, then Evans, it had seemed the worst kind of unfairness. She had already noticed, everybody had, that Lily was prettier than her sister. Where Petunia was a washed out blonde with a too-long neck and watery eyes, Lily was perfectly proportioned, with fiery red hair and bright green eyes. Petunia, no matter how much makeup she wore or how hard she wished, would never be Lily. Petunia would never have the prettier name, the prettier face, the quicker mind, the magic. Petunia had been raised Christian, but lost her faith when she was thirteen and Lily's utter perfection was proven once again: because, if God was real, he had made Lily perfect and Petunia a weak mockery of everything her younger sister was.

So Petunia did what overlooked children have done since the dawn of time: she chose to be different. So what if she wasn't magic? Lily hadn't earned her specialness, her uniqueness. It was luck. It was God.

(It was damn unfair, is what it was.)

Nobody could really blame Petunia for breaking away the way she did, if they cared enough to actually examine the way that Lily, by just being her perfect, magic, wonderful self, had destroyed Petunia's self worth. The distancing was for Petunia's own health. It hurt to go through puberty spotty faced and lanky, coming out of it barely any better, whilst Lily had the transition from a cute child to a gorgeous woman without any of the messy bits in between. 

Keeping all this in mind, Petunia Dursley was not a bad person. Just an angry one. So when she came face to face with her little sister before seven in the morning on a harsh November day, eyes red rimmed from crying and a look of complete devastation on her face, Petunia let her in without a word of protest.

* * *

Lily cried desperately whilst Petunia held her in her arms, feeling ridiculous in her lavender nightgown. Vernon would come down soon, wondering why Petunia hadn't returned to bed with spoils from the kitchen. It was Wednesday - they treated themselves to breakfast in bed on Wednesdays. Petunia didn't even know why Lily was crying.

"Lily," she rubbed her sister's back with firm circular motions, "what's wrong? What's happened?"

"They..." Lily hiccuped through her tears, "they're..." She burst into a fresh round of sobs, shaking like a leaf. 

Petunia swallowed, uncomfortable. "Shall I get you some tea?" she asked, her hostess coming out, before she bit her tongue at her own stupidity. Lily hated tea. She only drank that herbal stuff, and Petunia didn't have any because she and Vernon both drank Earl Gray.

Lily shook her head. "Pet..." she mumbled, taking deep breaths - or trying to. "James and Harry..."

A cold hand slipped around Petunia's heart. 

She couldn't say she had liked James Potter all that much - he had been the kind of boy who had called her names at school, and seemed so utterly convinced of his own importance and her and Vernon's complete irrelevance that they hadn't finished the one dinner they had attempted. And Harry... Lily had sent them a card, done with one of those magic cameras, of a small baby announcing the birth: he had been born on July 31st, Petunia remembered suddenly, almost the same age as Dudley. Six pounds and two ounces. 

Vernon had scrunched up his nose, said something about trying to improve on the camera, and that the baby was too small. Petunia had agreed. Dudley had been a large baby, and as much as a pain as it had been to get him out, Petunia honestly believed he was the finest boy to ever be born. Still, she hadn't thrown the card out. It was in the loft, along with the other things that Petunia wanted to keep but couldn't quite face seeing every day.

"What happened?" Petunia whispered, all strength deserting her suddenly, like a cold east wind blowing through the house even though all the windows were tight shut. Harry was Dudley's age.

"They're dead," Lily said in a hoarse voice, as if she didn't want to say the words, "they're dead."

As Petunia squeezes Lily as tight as she can, her little sister hanging onto her as if she was a life raft and she was adrift at sea, a tear streaks down her cheek. Petunia Dursley was angry; angry at the world for making her inferior to her sister in every way that seemed to matter. But she forgot all her anger, the day Lily lost everything.


End file.
